Dear inhabitants of Chicago summer,
Flip-flops are unlovely. Fwap, fwap, fwap, fwap is not an elegant sound-accompaniment for a life. How can one think of someone who fwaps everywhere as beautiful and stylish?
No. No, darling summer-people. They are all wrong. You are all wrong.
Your shoes should support you, should cushion your whole body from the assault of asphalt. They should help you to stand tall and with enviable posture. How can you prepare a life--your life--when your toes are splayed, when your arches sag, when your ankles roll, your back sinks and your shoulders droop?
Your shoes should make walking a pleasure and should help to guide your every step. Your gait should be smooth and should feel effortless. You may dance to the beat of the drummer of your choosing, but there should be some rhythm in your step.
While my blog sleeps, I will creep into her room and steal away all of her offending shoes. On tip-tip-tip-toe, I glide, gathering up all this junk food for the sole(s) in several armsful. I order them banned throughout the kingdom. When she awakes, there will not even exist a word for these fwapping offenders. In her closet will be sturdy and lovely shoes that will cradle, cushion and comfort. In them, she will walk like a queen. Even in the simplest of clothes, she will appear fully, impeccably dressed.